


all I can see is you

by wariangle



Series: infinite encores [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fix-It, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Oliver Queen interrupts Nyssa and Sara having sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I can see is you

Sara is panting heavily, pulling in quick, loud breaths to the rhythm of Nyssa’s thumping heart as Nyssa uses her tongue to trace a wet path across the vale between her breasts and downward to press slow, lingering kisses to the ridges of her abs, the muscle flexing beneath the skin of Sara’s stomach as she tenses and lets out a groan that dissolves into a breathy giggle as Nyssa veers too far off, catching the sensitive, tickling skin of her left side. Sara rakes her nails down Nyssa’s shoulder in a quiet warning and Nyssa decides to take mercy on her. With a final, feather-light kiss to her skin, she rests her cheek against Sara’s stomach for a second, lazily smiling up at her. “Sorry, _habibi_ ,” she says, but Sara isn’t fooled and tugs lightly at Nyssa’s hair in retaliation.

Without losing eye contact, Nyssa leaves a wet, open-mouthed kiss against Sara’s stomach, tongue going down to slip into her bellybutton, and she watches aptly as Sara’s eyes flutter shut, mouth parting in pleasure. Her strong thighs tighten and release around Nyssa as Nyssa shifts further down, intent but slow in her southward journey, entranced as she is by the leagues of milky skin spread out before her, Sara’s body trembling with pent-up lust beneath the barest hint of her touch.

She runs a hand up Sara’s body, helpless to resist the feel of tightly flexed muscles beneath the soft skin. Sara catches it in her own and draws it to her breast, sighing as Nyssa’s fingers grazes her stiff nipple, stroking softly.

Sara’s skin is a story, a map of scars, and Nyssa draws lines of wetness between them, with her tongue, paints constellation with her mouth – a kiss to the long-forgotten nick to Sara’s lower abdomen, the sword cut on her hip, the burn on the outside of her thigh. Nyssa knows them all, has traced every one of them with tender fervor, desperate to relearn her lover’s body, to bring her back to the here and now from whatever times and places marked her with such violence. It seems almost absurd that Sara has been traveling beyond time to save the world from future destruction only to return here, to her, solidly, achingly real after having been nothing but a memory for so very long. It has never frightened Nyssa, the way Sara has owned her heart since the first time they met, but it overwhelms her, makes her chest ache with the intensity of it.

“ _Ane bahebak_ ,” Nyssa whispers into Sara’s skin before finally sliding downwards again to put her mouth on her. She doesn’t take it slow or tease, but delves right in, just like Sara wants it, and at the first touch of Nyssa’s wet, hungry mouth on her clit, Sara groans, hands clutching at Nyssa’s shoulders and thighs tightening around her face is if to demand that she doesn’t as much as even think of moving away. Slickness slide against her tongue and Nyssa groans at the taste, head already swimming from the scent of Sara, of sweat, and flesh, and wet cunt. It makes her want to drown in Sara, eat her out until there isn’t an inch of her she hasn’t known the taste of, until there’s no distance at all left between them.

Curling her arms under Sara’s thighs, Nyssa uses her grip to lift her slightly in order to shift further down and slip her tongue inside of her, against the silk of her, to tease more of the thick, pearly wetness out of her, to feel her buck against her mouth, and hear her groans of pleasure, the soft, needy whispers of her name.

One of Sara’s hands has found its way into Nyssa hair and she curls into a fist as Nyssa eats her mercilessly, licking her way up and down and pressing sucking, open-mouthed kisses against the swollen folds of her cunt, before shifting upwards to take her clit into her mouth, circle it with the tip of her tongue until Sara folds in on herself like a jack-knife, breathing a loud “Fuck!” into the dark air of their bedroom.

Nyssa pulls back for a second to catch her breath and swallow, and Sara falls back to the bed. “I’m close,” she mumbles, tensing and moaning as Nyssa moves back in with renewed vigor. “Fuck. Nyssa, _fuck_.” She tenses, quakes, and groans. “Ah! Shit.”

Egged on by Sara’s rambling stream of words and the hand grasping convulsively at her neck, Nyssa loses focus on everything that isn’t their love-making and she doesn’t register the sound of a cellphone buzzing until Sara shifts suddenly to the side and the buzzing sound stops.

“Hello?” she hears Sara’s ragged, annoyed voice say and stills, blinking as her mind struggles to catch up. She makes as if to move away, but Sara’s hand tightens against the back of her head and Nyssa complies; she glances up to see Sara bite down hard on her bottom lip as Nyssa kisses her clit softly and laps teasingly at her before getting back to business, moving down to slip her tongue inside of her again, groaning quietly at the taste.

“Now it’s not, ah, a good time, Oliver.” Sara sounds strangled and her fingers flex against Nyssa’s scalp, causing Nyssa to have to fight back a self-satisfied smile even as she re-doubles her efforts, determined to make Sara come before they have to head out on some vigilante mission. “ _Ah_! Find… ah, find someone… someone else.”

Sara is close – Nyssa can feel it with every part of her being and she drags her nails up the insides of her thighs, making her writhe.

“Ugh, just leave us alone for tonight,” Sara says in a way that’s probably supposed to sound annoyed but mostly just sounds breathless and fucked-out and then she throws the phone aside, and, grabbing hold of Nyssa with both hands and arching sharply against her, comes with a deep moan, every muscle in her body locking for a long moment before she falls boneless to the mattress.

Nyssa eases back slowly, hand idling against Sara’s hipbone as her mouth presses kiss after kiss to the inside of her thigh. She climbs up Sara’s body, carefully putting her weight on her, and kisses her slack mouth softly. After a long moment, Sara’s hand curls around her cheek, returning the kiss.

“Do we need to ‘suit up’?” Nyssa asks with a smile. She has been saying that ever since Sara’s introduced her to superhero films. Sara grins in response, stroking her hand down Nyssa’s back.

“No,” she says and pulls Nyssa back into a deep kiss. “I saved the world, you know, I deserve a night off.”

Nyssa smiles and brushes her hand across Sara’s cheek. “There is a limit to how many times you can use that excuse, _habibi_ ,” she teases.

“Oliver needed a last minute bartender,” Sara says.

“Well,” Nyssa says. She kisses Sara again – she can’t really not, when she looks like she does with her flushed face and tangled hair and beautiful, radiant smile. “He could have asked for me.”

Laughingly, Sara drags her down into another kiss.

 

II.

Arms wrap around Sara’s waist from behind and she leans readily into Nyssa’s embrace without spilling even a bit of the milk she’s pouring into the pancake batter. Assassin reflexes are good for many things.

“Morning,” Nyssa mumbles into her neck, and Sara smiles widely to herself. She never realized what an absolutely hopeless morning person Nyssa is until the other woman had lived outside of the League for months. It delights her to no end – mostly because she’s never known Nyssa to be ready to give up discipline for simple pleasures so easily before.

“Good morning,” she says. “I’m making pancakes.”

Nyssa seems to perk up at that. She makes a pleased noise and kisses Sara’s neck. Sara turns in her arms and reaches up to take her mouth in a long, deep kiss, hands curling around Nyssa’s neck. Nyssa tastes minty of toothpaste and Sara sighs happily, teasing Nyssa’s mouth open to slip her tongue inside. Nyssa’s hands move down to squeeze at her hips and then back up, stroking warmly across her back and she inhales sharply as she does so, tilting her head to the side for easier access. Sara sees her chance and her hand falls down to Nyssa’s stomach, slipping in beneath her shirt to touch the soft skin there.

The sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat interrupts their reverie by making Nyssa jerk back and losing her usual poise for a second. Sara resists rolling her eyes and settles for sighing in exasperation. Watching Nyssa tip-toe around Oliver had been fun the first day, but three days into their providing Oliver a safe-house while the rest of the team hunts down this week’s big bad with Nyssa pulling away everything Sara tries to touch her is getting on her nerves.

“You never had any problem with kissing in front of him before,” Sara had reminded her pointedly last night in bed, Nyssa as responsive as a block of ice next to her even though Sara was horny and Nyssa was so hot and tempting.

“He was my _husband_ ,” Nyssa had hissed in return and Sara had frowned at that, partly at what Nyssa had been forced to go through in her absence but also at hearing her referring to Oliver as ‘husband’, even in the past tense.

“Stop calling him that,” Sara had said and curled herself around Nyssa to go to sleep, only rubbing up against her a little bit until Nyssa told her to stop.

“Morning, Oliver,” Sara says as he steps fully into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he says slightly guardedly, ducking his head as he looks between the both of them.

Sara sighs audibly and resumes stirring the batter. “Make yourself useful,” she tells Oliver. “There’s bacon to fry and coffee to make.” Leaning across the counter to snag a frying pan for the pancakes, she presses a lightning-quick kiss to Nyssa’s cheek just to watch that familiar tiny smile show on her face.

 

III.

After breakfast, Sara drags Nyssa with her into the shower and with the water pounding loudly against the tiled floor and masking all sounds, there is no hesitance in the way Nyssa presses up against her, mouth hot and eager against Sara’s shoulders, the back of her neck and the top of her spine. Nyssa’s hands glide up her wet arms, across her collarbones and down to cup her breasts, the calloused palms of her hands deliciously rough against Sara’s hardening nipples.

Their wet skin slide silkily together and Sara groans, tilting her head back to give Nyssa better access to her neck, which Nyssa takes full advantage of, sucking hard against Sara’s pulse-point only to kiss away the hurt with soft, lingering lips.

Horny as hell and already so wet and aroused she’s feeling empty from it, Sara grabs one of Nyssa’s hands and steers it firmly down her stomach and feels Nyssa shiver against her back as she guides it between her legs. Nyssa’s mouth drops to her shoulder to hide a moan and drags her lips along her skin and Sara tips her head back with a hiss as Nyssa touches her, fingertips gentle against her clit. Water splashes against her face, gets caught in her eyelids, and she can see nothing but the white blur of the ceiling. Easily but steadily, Nyssa hand moves further down and she works two fingers inside of her. Sara turns her face into her neck at the feel of it, of Nyssa filling her up, clever fingers expertly finding the right spot to curl against.

“Fuck me,” she murmurs, helpless to do anything but clench down on Nyssa’s fingers. She lets herself fall forward to brace on arm against the cold tiled wall in anticipation. Nyssa’s other hand slide up her thigh, across her hip, to grope at her breast, and her lips tease at Sara’s jaw, insisting she turn her head for a kiss.

Sara moans into Nyssa’s mouth as she finally starts fucking her, fingers lighting up sparks inside her with every shift and thrust, Nyssa’s breath heavy in her ear, her body pressed impossibly tight against her, hips moving restlessly against Sara’s ass. The water hammering against their entwined bodies is turning tepid, but Sara doesn’t care – it’s all background noise to Nyssa fucking her, Nyssa’s body pushing her up against the wall, Nyssa…

“Oh!” Sara gasps as Nyssa twists her fingers, pushing in hard and… “Fuck!” Sara’s forehead falls against her splayed hand and Nyssa is immediately there, following her, kissing her neck, her other hand still massaging her breast and Sara squeezes her eyes together, pushes back against Nyssa’s hand, and…

There’s a tentative knock on the bathroom door and Nyssa swears viciously in Arabic in an uncharacteristic show of annoyance.

“Hey, are you about done?” comes Oliver’s voice and Sara both hears and feels Nyssa’s heavy sigh. She’s stilled inside her and Sara throbs around her, aching to come.

“I really could use a shower,” he continues.

“Oh my god,” Sara says.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


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